


Locks of Love

by HaveAGoodeDay



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Asylum
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Haircuts, Past Abuse, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-17 23:52:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaveAGoodeDay/pseuds/HaveAGoodeDay
Summary: Lana gives Mary Eunice a haircut.





	Locks of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to TheFandomLesbian for the title and to AngelicRabe for betareading.

They’re watching television -  _ Bewitched,  _ the magical notes of the show’s intro accompanied by a cartoon woman riding a broom flying across the screen, when Lana notices it. Her fingers play with the split ends of Mary Eunice’s long hair; the soft tips tickling her fingers where they’ve grown past the modest swell of the younger woman’s chest.  _ She’s always had long hair,  _ the blonde strands used to be pulled back into her veil, with only her bangs peeking out from the charcoal colored material. Those too fall to her chin, pushed to the sides to frame her rounded face, to keep them out of her eyes as she sleepily watches the credits on the television. 

 

“Your hair is getting long.” Lana murmurs, and her voice rumbles in her chest. Mary Eunice nuzzles into the cotton of her tee shirt, the white fabric shifting as the former nun’s nose bumps it at Lana’s collarbone. The lights are off, only the streetlamps outside casting narrow lines of dim yellowed illumination across the floor from behind the blinds. “We’re going to need to cut it soon.” 

 

Mary Eunice tenses up like a cornered rabbit; and even though she lays spread across Lana’s lap without curling up, the older woman’s hand feels the muscles in her back tighten with the observation.  _ What’s got her scared?  _ Mary expressed certain emotions so openly - love, kindness, caring, but she struggled with the darker twists and turns of the human mind.  _ She’ll lie if you ask.  _ Lana exhales softly through her nose, “Hey angel, what’s up?”

 

Mary Eunice breathes in long and deeply, smelling the fake floral perfume clinging to Lana’s neck from her day of book signings - the fragrance mingling with the smell of her shampoo and conditioner. She wonders if Mary Eunice will put on a brave facade of fineness; if her lover will bottle her feelings up and lock them with a discarded key. So, when Mary does answer, the low and truthful tone to her voice is surprising. 

 

“Sister Jude used to cut it.” Mary Eunice reaches up, touching the blonde strands herself as she nods stiffly. “Every six months, or so…” The younger woman trails off, she twists to instead look up at Lana, the knob of Lana’s knee now digging only slightly uncomfortably into her lower back. “She’d call me into her office, I always thought I was in for a caning, with how angry she was.”

 

The word  _ caning  _ makes Lana’s arms tighten around her, a protective hold as the older woman kisses the crown of Mary Eunice’s head. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

 

_ It was for my own good;  _ Mary’s tongue itches to go with an automatic response,  _ I deserved it.  _ Jude wouldn’t have had to bend her over that desk with a disciplinary hand if she had just been  _ better.  _ Better at knocking, better at listening, better at her job. But Lana wants her to be better too, and Lana does not use lashes or angry words. She encourages her with sweet kisses, with promises of loving her no matter the weight of the burden on her shoulders. Lana doesn’t like when she berates herself -  _ she sees only the good in me.  _ She wishes she could live in Lana’s affection, and feel like that woman it makes her out to be all the time. 

 

“Jude always  _ hated  _ giving me a haircut.” Mary Eunice smiles a bit as she thinks of her motherly figure, the way she’d mumble to herself as she worked and walked circles around the chair she’d sat Mary down in. “She said I couldn’t stop moving, you know, like a little kid.” 

 

_ A reckless child,  _ Jude’s palm would tap her temple with a force hard enough to knock her brain around in her skull - creating a dull ache between her eyes, and her hand would be slapped away as she reached up to touch the impact site.  _ Do you want me to cut your ear off? _

 

“There’s scissors in the kitchen drawer,” Lana states, her fingers run through Mary Eunice’s hair, pulling free any tangles. “I can give you a trim, if you’d like.” 

 

Mary debates it for a second; her mind wanders on the possibility. Haircuts had never been a fun experience - she hadn’t even gotten it cut as a child, her aunt often just chopped her bangs at an angle that got her bullied. A blush colors her cheeks,  _ I want to look good for Lana.  _ Lana’s beautiful, with her style dark brown curls, her red lipstick and blue eyeshadows. The press tour for  _ Maniac  _ has her up early getting ready. Mary Eunice sitting on the sink to watch her. The fuzzy end of the brush tickling Mary’s nose as Lana playfully paints the end of it pink with powder. 

 

“Okay.” Mary Eunice consents, and she looks up to offer Lana a bright smile. Lana’s excited features light up, and with the happiness Mary Eunice finds her chest flooding with a warmness _.  _ It wraps around her heart and she plants her feet to steady herself as she pushes up to kiss Lana solidily. 

 

“Okay, now get up. My legs are asleep.” 

  
  
  


“How short do you want it?” The tile floor of the kitchen is freezing on Mary Eunice’s bare feet, a sharp contrast to Lana’s warm voice. There’s the sound of the scissors in Lana’s hand opening and closing as a means to sharpen the blades, and the furnace kicking in under the house. It’s late enough they should be getting ready for bed instead of having Mary perched on a stool in the middle of the kitchen. 

 

Jude never asked her anything but to sit still, so it takes Mary Eunice a moment to think over the question. She bites her lip. “Whatever you think looks best.” 

 

“I could chop it all off and still think you’re the prettiest thing on this side of New York.”

 

A protective hair curls in her hair, and Mary Eunice leans to dodge scissors that don’t even threaten to cut yet. “Don’t chop it  _ all  _ off!” 

 

“So you do have a preference?” Lana’s teasing is partnered with her gathering Mary’s blonde strands to the side, clearing a path so she can duck down and plant a kiss to Mary Eunice’s neck. “How about just an inch, or two?” There’s a soft laugh, the warmth of it fans across the younger woman’s skin. “I’m no professional, so it might take a few tries.” 

 

“That sounds good.” An inch - not all that much, just enough to get rid of the split ends. Mary Eunice has the urge to sit on her hands, but opts to put the in between her thighs to keep them contained. She doesn’t want to make Lana upset; her toes curl as Lana combs her hair, and the room turns quite as Lana uses her teeth to hold whatever tool she’s not using. The comb is switched for the scissors, and Lana holds her hair taunt to snip at the thin strands. As they’re cut the tension releases, and they fall against her back feeling lighter. 

 

Lana works quickly, but without haste. She takes her time making sure it’s all even. Her fingers feel good against Mary Eunice’s scalp as she tousles what’s already done. It’s peaceful, the calming and comforting touches make her eyes feel heavy with sleep. They blink slowly, and Mary finds herself almost startled as Lana enters her line of vision. 

 

“Hey.” Lana grins at her.

 

“Hi.” 

 

“I’m going to do your bangs now.” Lana tells her, and her smirk is amused as she brushes her fingers along Mary’s hairline. “Close your eyes. But don’t fall asleep - I can’t carry you to bed.” 

 

Her eyes fall shut. The darkness makes her bitter; she’d much rather look at Lana up close. A hand creates a visor on her forehead, keeping her bangs up and away as the scissors glide through and little, ticklish clippings make Mary Eunice feel like sneezing as they brush under her nostrils. Her tongue peaks out to wet her lip and snippets cling to it as she bites it between her teeth. 

 

Lana’s hand moves, and she blows a breath that smells like coffee and caramel across Mary’s face to wisp away any loose short strands. “Okay, all done.” 

 

“Done?” Her bangs feel weird tickling her forehead, and she looks at Lana’s content features. The older woman’s fingers ruffle the freshly cut fringe.  _ That was easy.  _ At Braircliff, a haircut felt like  _ hours  _ of sitting in that office, staring at the floor as Jude spoke aloud bible verses and didn’t ask by moved Mary’s head for her. 

 

“Yeah, let’s go to bed. I thought you were going to tip right off the chair.” Lana’s palms tap onto of Mary Eunice’s thighs, and she grabs Mary’s hands to intertwine their fingers. She inclines her head toward the mess of honey blonde hair on the floor. “I’ll sweep in the morning.” 

 

“I love you.” Mary blurts; encompassed by the feeling. Surrounded by the idea that Lana actually  _ cares  _ about her, and the feeling of being cared for only makes her feel softer and her heartstrings pull tightly in affection. 

 

“I love you too.” 


End file.
